The moment I first realized “Good” and “Bad” don’t really exist, I felt a jolt of terror. I’d grown used to the idea of holding my thoughts and actions up against a societal standard to judge whether I was a “Good” person. I’d grown used to following a list of prescribed rules for living a “Good” life. It was pretty much black and white, with the occasional patch of troubling gray that I could usually skirt around without too much effort.
When you’re a witch, though, you find out that kind of stuff is really only meant for children.
